


So.. What are your plans now, Elton?

by SammyPanda



Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 23:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammyPanda/pseuds/SammyPanda
Summary: What if Bernie DID love him like that?





	So.. What are your plans now, Elton?

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t gonna write this at first, coz it’s weird because it’s real people. But then I shifted it to: it’s the actor’s depiction of these characters and that made it a little better… but not much… Anyways, here it is.
> 
> Also also I couldn’t find the name of the young black man that kisses Elton, so I checked IMDB and there’s a couple of cast listed without their pictures and one of the characters is Richard. So I stuck with that. And yeah, Wilson’s real name is Rodney Jones, but I’ve stuck with Wilson, coz that’s his name now.

“What about the fact that you’re a fag?”

Bernie’s mind is slightly muddled from the beer, so the words register, but only sort of. _‘A what?’_ The thought puts a frown on his face as he looks from Elton to Richard.

“What?”

“Your little friend, is a _homosexual_ ” Richard says, with a slight smirk and a haughty look.

Bernie was pretty sure he snapped something in his neck, what with the speed his head swivelled towards Elton. He’d heard it right then, the first time.

“N-no, I’ve got a girlfriend” it’s panicked and scrambled.

Elton’s eyes are shifting nervously between Richard and Bernie, and Bernie can see the panic intensifying. 

“When has that ever stopped anybody?” Wilson says with an incredulous chuckle, and it’s followed by a couple more chuckles from both Richard and Diana.

Bernie looks at Elton then, notices how he’s suddenly avoiding looking back at him, and it takes him a moment to find his voice.

“Are you?” it somehow comes out softer than he had intended it to be, but it catches Elton’s attention. His eyes slowly lift up from the pint he’s been trying to move with his mind, and he searches Bernie’s eyes.

“I dunno” he maintains eye contact with Bernie, and some kind of defiance comes over him.

“Would it matter if I was, Bernie?” it comes out kind of harsh, but his eyes betray him. They’re soft, and they shine with unshed tears; he’s afraid. Afraid Bernie will say the wrong thing to him, afraid that Bernie might _hate_ him, because Bernie can see it now. He _is_. The revelation does something to Bernie; wakes something up deep inside him. A small spark he had felt when he first met Elton at the Regency. A spark that’s slowly turning into a small fire, the embers just smouldering. It makes him suck in a breath, and it takes him a second to find his voice.

“No. Not to me” he finally manages. And even though Elton doesn’t say anything, Bernie can see the relief in his eyes. The tears threatening to spill even more. And there’s something else in his eyes as well, a focus. A heat. Like the small fire deep down inside Bernie, and it’s making him nervous. Really nervous.

“Might matter to Arabella, though” he says, to defuse the situation, and to get Elton’s attention off of him. It works, and the tension that had arisen has gone as everyone at the table starts to laugh. Elton looks around the table as though the sudden increase of noise startles him out of his thoughts.

“Oh fuck” he says, followed by a laugh, as though the situation really _is_ hilarious, which it isn’t. But in this moment, as they sink another couple of pints with Wilson and Richard and Diana, and that one bloke Bernie can’t _really_ remember the name of, it’s fine. They can pretend nothing really happened. Or changed. Until they have to go home.

It’s around 2 in the morning that they stumble out of the pub. They bid farewell to Wilson and Richard and Diana, and that one bloke, and they make their way up the road. They lean heavily on each other, and they sing, and there are a _lot_ of fucking bins on this street, and they’ve somehow managed to knock over _every. single. one._

They somehow make it up the steps to the front door, after knocking over the last couple of bins, before Elton seems to lose his nerve.

“Oh, no no…Bernie” he practically wails, as he lowers himself on the steps.

“Oh, what is it now?” Bernie responds, flopping down next to Elton a couple of steps up.

“What am I going to do?” he sounds absolutely miserable, and the slight slur in his voice from the beers isn’t helping at all.

“You’re going to tell her”

They’d discussed it lengthy in the pub, and both Bernie and Wilson thought it the best thing to do.

‘ _You gotta tell her, man. Can’t do that to a girl_ ’ _Wilson had drawled, cigarette dangling from his lips, gesturing with his whisky. Bernie nodding from his place at the table, lips wrapped around his pint._

_‘Yeah, man. He’s right.’_

A pitiful sound leaves Elton at that.

“Hhhhmmmmnnnnnn…. It’ll break her heart”

Never tell anyone that Elton doesn’t care. But Bernie’s had too much to drink, and he’s been thinking about Elton for the better part of the night, and his thoughts are getting muddier by the minute.

“Not sure she has one” he mumbles, and it pulls a laugh from Elton’s drunken lips, and he has to chuckle at that, because hearing Elton laugh is one of the best sounds in the world right now. Their light mood is shattered, however, when the front door opens and Arabella steps out.

“Would you please keep the noise down?! You’ll wake up the whole bloody street!” it’s a harsh, angry whisper, and it cuts straight through their drunkenness. There’s no way that Elton can tell her now, not when she’s so angry, they both realise this. So they heave themselves and each other up, and make their way in. But neither find it appealing to be in the small confines of their shared room right now, so they make their way up to the roof.

Elton sits down on the ledge, looking slightly miserable and Bernie’s pacing the expanse of the roof. He’s rambling, he knows. He’s on about all the things they should do, and where they should go.

“America. Wide open spaces”

He mentions Tower Records and soon he’s gushing over Elton.

“Everybody keeps asking: ‘who’s that singing on the demos?’ and that…- You are a _shit hot_ piano player, you have an _amazing_ voice, and I’m _telling_ you there is something special that happens… when you sing our songs” Bernie says, sitting down next to Elton, a bit too close he’s realised, but he’s still drunk enough that it really doesn’t matter right now.

“Yeah but Dick said..- He says my hands are like a midget boxers’” Elton pouts, turning his hands over, as though to show him Dick is right. Which he isn’t.

“Oh who cares what Dick thinks!” Bernie counters. Elton deflates a little.

“I just don’t know if I’m… what they’re looking for…” he mumbles, and Bernie has half a mind to hit him round the back of his head.

“It’s time for you to be out front” he says instead, softly.

He looks up at Elton then, and there’s a look on Elton’s face. It’s a soft look; his eyes are shining with something, and there’s a small smile on his lips. Bernie has a sudden urge to lean forward and capture those lips with his own, but something stops him. He knows that if he leans in now, and Elton _doesn’t_ feel the same, whatever they had, this incredible friendship, will be gone. So he just looks at him, memorizing this moment. But then _Elton_ leans in, and the small fire inside Bernie ignites and becomes an all-consuming heat, and it startles him so much, he moves back. The look on Elton’s face breaks his heart, and he’s quick to fix it.

“N-no, no I didn’t…-” he starts, or tries to anyway, when Elton stands up and interrupts him.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.. I-I just thought.. At.. At the pub… You..” Elton is slightly panicking, Bernie can tell, and so he gets up as well, tries to catch Elton’s flailing hands.

“Elton….Elton…” he’s trying to get a word in, to get Elton’s attention, but Elton is _still_ rambling, so Bernie grabs his wrists.

“Reggie!”

It has the desired effect and Elton’s mouth clicks shut mid-sentence. His eyes are huge and shining, and he takes a few seconds to look between his hands and Bernie’s face.

“It’s okay” Bernie says, a small smile playing on his lips, as he slowly takes a step towards Elton.

“It’s _really_ okay” he repeats, taking another step until they are chest to chest. Bernie has to look up slightly, Elton being a good two inches taller than him. He can see the confusion in Elton’s eyes, and both their hearts are hammering. Bernie squeezes Elton’s wrists before he slowly gets up on his toes, and moves his face closer to Elton’s. They share a breath before -

“Elton~ Time for bed~”

Arabella’s sing-song voice cuts through _everything_ , and Bernie pulls back again, releasing Elton’s wrists and all. He nervously rubs his neck as he looks from the opened window to Elton. And Elton on his part looks miserable.

“I…eh… I should…” he gestures to the window, to _Arabella_.

“Yeah…” Bernie answers, as he sits back down on the ledge.

“Yeah, you should eh…” he makes a vague gesturing motion, as Elton moves towards the steps, and if Bernie had been looking at Elton instead of at the sky he would have seen the sad, longing look.

It’s a couple more minutes sitting on the ledge of the roof, before Bernie shivers. He hadn’t noticed it was this cold out. So he moves inside, refuses to look at the door to Arabella’s room, and makes his way towards his. _Theirs._ He shoves the door open with a little more force than needed, and freezes in the doorway. Elton is sitting on the bed. _His_ bed. _Bernie’s_ bed. Elton is sitting on Bernie’s bed, arms resting on his knees, hands stapled together, a distant look on his face. He looks up at Bernie when he doesn’t move from the doorway.

“Hi” Elton’s voice is soft as he slowly gets up from the bed, rubbing his hands together. It starts Bernie into motion, as he closes the door and takes a step further into the room. Elton hovers, Bernie notices, unsure of himself, so Bernie slowly moves towards him.

“Hey” it’s equally soft, and he stops just in front of Elton, a few inches between them. He searches Elton’s face, sees him holding his breath, still looking scared. So Bernie raises his right hand, places it on Elton’s cheek, before slowly moving it back into his hair, and round the back of his head. He applies the minimal amount of pressure to ease Elton’s head forward, and at the same time moves, so he can capture Elton’s lips in a kiss. A _first_ kiss. _Their_ first kiss. It’s soft, just the smallest amount of pressure, but it’s perfect, and the fire inside Bernie rages on. He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but he has to open them when he pulls away from Elton. He doesn’t pull away completely, his hand is still on the back of Elton’s head and he looks at Elton then, whose eyes are still closed, and he can see the small smile playing on his lips, and it brings a smile to his own. When Elton opens his eyes and looks at Bernie, the smile grows. There’s a moment where they just look at each other, and everything else falls away. The heat between them rises, to the point where they can physically feel it, and as Elton’s eyes drop to Bernie’s lips again, the moment breaks. They move towards each other almost desperate and their kisses become hungry. Tongues and teeth and breath are mingling. Their hands start roaming, moving over chests and under shirts. Up and off. Bernie may be the smaller of the two but he manoeuvres Elton back enough for the back of his legs to hit the bed, and they topple onto it, laughing. Bernie ends up straddling Elton’s thighs, and he has to take a second to adjust to it, before he kisses him again. Bernie slowly moves for the button of Elton’s pants and Elton tries to talk between the kisses.

“I’ve never…” he tries, but his words get swallowed by Bernie.

“Me neither...” comes the response after a few kisses and relief comes off of Elton as he sinks deeper into the kisses.

“Can’t be much different from with a girl…” Bernie gets out in between kisses, and when the words register, Elton pulls back.

“But I’ve… I’ve never…” he fumbles, shaking his head embarrassed, cheeks burning.

“Oh” is all Bernie can get out. He’s not sure what to do with this information, because the blood he needs to think, currently _isn’t_ in his brain. He sits back a little and looks down at the boy beneath him. Though he can’t really call him a boy, not with the way he looks; hair a mess, glasses slightly fogged, lips swollen and red, chest bare and his lips aren’t the only thing that’s swollen.

“That’s ok… I’ll show you” is what comes out eventually. And he’s not sure _what_ he’s supposed to show Elton, but he’ll figure something out. And the soft smile that appears on Elton’s face is enough to ease his mind. They delve into another series of kisses, as Bernie moves for Elton’s pants again, popping the button and trying to pull them down, at the same time that Elton tries to do the same to Bernie’s. They figure out pretty quickly it’s not going to work in the position they’re in, so Bernie moves off of Elton, and they work fast to divest themselves of their pants and shoes. Bernie is back on top of Elton in no time flat, and they resume their kissing, the newly exposed skin being explored, legs rubbing together, erections pushed against each other through thin cotton, and Elton’s hands move over Bernie’s back and ass.

 _Showing_ Elton seems to be a bit of a problem, because Bernie literally has no clue what he’s doing, but it seems Elton has found a new sense of confidence as he uses his hips and momentum to flip them over. Their erections touch through the thin material of their boxers from another angle and it feels delicious. Elton’s hands are _everywhere_ and Bernie can feel the sting of teeth on his neck from where Elton bit him. He didn’t think he’d like something like that, but his hand moves to the back of Elton’s head, keeping him in place against his neck. Elton seems to get the silent request and bites down again, worries the skin between his teeth. Leaves a mark.

Elton pushes up a bit with his right hand, hovering slightly over Bernie as his left hand moves down Bernie’s body. He tweaks a nipple, and drags his nails down his abs and moves around his hip to grab his ass. The movement causes Bernie to arch up, and the combination of Elton’s teeth in his neck, his hand on his ass and his cock against his own, sends his mind spinning. Because of that, it takes him a moment to realise Elton is trying to push down his boxers.

“Bernie” Elton breaths into his ear, and the warmth from his breath and the _way_ he says his name, has Bernie moaning. A breathy chuckle sounds in his ear, and Elton pulls on the waistband of his boxers.

“No… Bernie… Hips” he means to punctuate his words by motioning with his own hips, but naturally that results in their erections being pushed together, which draws moans from both of them. Elton pulls back a little to look at Bernie.

“S-sorry” Elton manages, with a laugh and a twinkle in his eyes. Bernie can’t help but laugh as well, but pushes his hips up anyway, and Elton takes no time in pulling down Bernie’s boxers, followed by his own. The flesh on flesh contact has them both sucking in a breath, and it pulls a deep moan from Elton.

“Shit”

Bernie is not sure which one of them said it, but he shares the sentiment. He can feel sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat, and he sees a bead of it roll down Elton’s temple. It must be the alcohol still swimming in his veins, because he moves up and _licks_ it from the side of his face. Elton looks slightly startled by it, but the heat in his eyes tells him he really doesn’t mind as he dives back in and slots his lips over Bernie’s. He also starts a rolling motion with his hips, pushing his cock against Bernie’s, and of their own accord, Bernie’s hips respond with an answering motion. Elton’s left hand finds a place on Bernie’s hip, and he uses it as leverage, grinding down harder and faster.

Bernie’s mind is reeling, and he has no real control over his body, the heat and the alcohol taking over. Though if he’s really honest with himself, it’s more heat than alcohol. One of his hands moves to Elton’s ass, grabbing it and uses it to urge him on. To go faster, harder. To give him more. Elton on his part is falling apart, fast. His face drops to Bernie’s neck, where his teeth scrape the skin not really biting down, as his hips continue on as though they have a mind of their own. He can feel the heat pooling low in his belly, and he knows he’s not going to last long.

“B-Bernie…ah… Bernie… I…-” he tries to form a sentence, though he’s not sure what he wants to say, but Bernie seems to understand him either way.

“Y-yeah… Me too…” it’s breathy and about as eloquent as Elton was. But it’s enough, and seconds later Elton’s hips falter as Bernie pushes up with a little more force and they both lose it.

Elton becomes a sort of bone-less mess, as he’s trying to catch his breath, face smushed into Bernie’s neck. Bernie on his part is slowly drawing circles through the sweat on Elton’s back, enjoying the high. After a few moments Elton turns his face a little, eyes already drooping.

“I love you, Bernie” he whispers in his ear. Bernie turns his head a little, just enough so he can look at Elton.

“I love you too, man” he says with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. Please note, English is not my first, so if you spot any mistakes do tell, and I will see if I can fix them.


End file.
